Unbroken
by Illeana Starbright
Summary: He was handsome, arrogant, and strangely compelling. He was unlike any other agent she had ever met. The time leading up to Silva's betrayal. Silva/OC
1. Prelude Part I

**Prelude Part I: March 1993**

Something was going to go wrong. She rolled over on the expansive hotel bed, expensive sheets rustling with the movement. _10:49PM_. The dinner started at midnight and was schedule to go on for several hours. The guest list was exclusive. The security was going to be tight. Still she was sure something was going to go wrong. And when it was she was going to scream.

It had taken five months to set up this cover. Five long months of flirting with every man high up in the Italian mob and acted like the spoiled daughter of a prominent American oil king just looking for some fun. Five months that had led up to this night. Antonio Zaccaro had been playing games with MI6 for almost two years and M had decided they had taken enough. It was time to play Zaccaro for all he was worth. That was where she had come in.

Nikita Alden was one of the best seductresses in MI6. Half Russian and half British, Nikita was not, admittedly, a seductress in her natural state. Her face was a little too sharp, her hair stick straight, and something about her almost sallow face scream unattractive. With the proper work, however, she was stunning. It helped too that she was small. Five foot four inches in two inch heels with a curvy, delicate frame that almost made up for the sallow face. With medical tape to change her facial shape from sharp to heart, her hair curled, and her makeup perfect she was, simply put, stunning. Now as she waited for her alarm to ring, signalling it was time to wake up, she went over the steps in her mind.

First came curling her hair, each strand coated lightly in hairspray so it would keep its shape for the hours to come. Then came the medical tape, strategically placed to soften sharp cheekbones. The makeup was applied carefully over that, giving her a delicate, ethereal beauty. Then she would style her hair, slip into the dress, and apply some soft pink lipstick before slipping into shoes and heading for the door.

The alarm beeped once before Nikita's hand found it and silenced it. _11:00PM_. Time to get to work. Nikita moved about her routine with the calm efficiency that clearly stated she had done this hundreds of times before. At a quarter till twelve she was walking out the door of the hotel and stepping into the car sent for. The driver pulled away silently as soon as her door was shut. Nikita let out a silent breath and allowed her other persona to take over.

It started simply, chatting up the driver in a bored, drawling tone. That was accompanied by fluid arm movements and expressive faces. By the time Nikita stepped out of the car at exactly midnight she was safely hidden in the character of Alexis Walters, a spoiled and rich brat with too much money on her hands.

The hall in which Antonio Zaccaro had decided to hold his gathering of arms smugglers, mobsters, and femme fatales was nothing short of extravagant. The shimmer of gold on her white dress and the click of her heels was muffled by the rustle of elegant gowns and the tap of shoes on the cream colored tile. The walls were painted gold with green flowers stenciled on to them. The columns were pure jade with golden dragons, the Chinese sort. swirling around them. Nikita took a wine glass from one of the servers, holding the delicate stem carefully as she made her way across the room.

Standing in the center was her target. Antonio Zaccaro was handsome for being in his mid forties. His eyes were a dark brown bordering on black and his hair was chocolate colored curls without a hint of grey. He was four inches taller than Nikita and his smiles were a pleasant surprise that made you want to bask in them. "My darling," he greeted her, beaming at her with one of those smiles. "I had hoped you would come tonight."

"I couldn't resist the invitation," Nikita cooed, smiling back at him sweetly.

"You look simply stunning," he said, offering her his arm. She placed her hand gently on his with a brilliant smile and a murmur of thanks. So began the night.


	2. Prelude Part II

**Prelude Part II: March 1993**

The party was in full swing. People from all corners of the underworld were gathered, pretty women on their arms and wine glasses in hand. Tiago Rodriguez made his way through the hall, slipping by women who looked twice and who paused to flirt with him. Standing in the center of it all was Antonio Zaccaro. The man was dressed in a charcoal grey suit and on his arm was a women closer to Tiago's age than his own. Her hair fell in dark ringlets almost to her shoulders and her eyes, which turned to him as he approached, were a brilliant jade green. "Mr. Zaccaro," Tiago said, greeted the man with a short bow as he had done on every occasion of their meeting.

"Mr. Silva," Antonio said delightedly. "This is my lucky day, isn't it darling?"

"I suppose so," the young woman purred from his side. She was shapely and undeniably beautiful; a perfect accessory for Antonio Zaccaro. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Of course darling," Zaccaro replied with a fond smile. "Mr. Silva may I present my companion for the last month, Miss Alexis Walters." Then he turned to Alexis. "Darling this is Raoul Silva, an arms dealer from Spain that I'm considering working with."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Alexis said, offering him her hand in a delicate motion.

"The pleasure is all mine," Tiago replied, bending to kiss it lightly. She flushed prettily and batted her eyes at him from Zaccaro's arm. "Might I steal your companion for a dance?"

"Of course," Zaccaro replied cheerfully. "Enjoy yourself darling."

"I shall try," she replied, kissing him lightly on the cheek before allowing Tiago to lead her to the dance floor. They were hardly the only couple dancing and the murmur around them washed out any sound.

"Where are you from Alexis?" he asked as they spun, waiting for the okay to dispose to Antonio.

"America. Texas really," she drawled back, her smile wonderfully empty. "Daddy's an oil king there and he said that I'm so terribly sheltered he wants me to travel. I agreed of course and I met Antonio in Italy about a month ago. He's been an angel."

"I'm sure he has," Tiago replied, trying to drown his sarcasm with false sincerity.

_"You can make your move any time you're ready_," a voice in his ear said and he couldn't conceal a smile. The dance ended and he led her back toward Antonio, mindful of the handgun hidden underneath his custom tailored jacket. he forced his feet to slip a little, almost pulling Alexis down with him.

"I'm sorry my dear," he apologized to her. "I must have had one too many to drink if you catch my drift."

"You'd best be careful on the tile floors then," she replied with a giggle, helping him up. Gun in hand Tiago then turned, aimed, and fired. Antonio went down like a ton of bricks. For a moment there was stunned silence and then the screaming began. People scattered every which way, shielding Tiago from Antonio's guards for the time being. "You _idiot_," Alexis screeched at him, her face bright with fury.

"He was playing with MI6 darling," Tiago shot back. She then swore at him in Russian, which threw him for a loop, and stormed across the hall. MI6 operatives were already flooding the building, snipers that had hung around in case Tiago missed. In the center of it all was M, brown hair cut in a close cropped cap to her face.

"Well done Tiago," she informed him, her business heels clicking crisply across the floor. Then she turned to the furious young woman standing a few feet away from Antonio's body. "Nikita, I suggest you get on the next plane home."

"So that's it," the woman shot back, eyes blazing. "I waste five months on this and you throw it all in the trash without so much as a sorry?"

"Your transmitter was broken so we couldn't contact you," M replied crisply. "Please Nikita, keep your composure."

"I bloody well will not," the woman fumed. Her green eyes were bright with emotion now, fury.

"Return home Nikita," M said coldly. Nikita opened her mouth to protest but M was unyielding. "_Now_."

"Yes mum," the young woman replied and turned, storming out of the building.

"Well that went well," Tiago commented, turning expectantly to M.

"You'll be given a full debriefing eventually," she replied coldly and then walked away to talk to one of the technicians, effectively ending the conversation.


	3. Chapter One

Author's Note: Thanks to _SilentLaughter_ (There's just something oddly likeable about him), _Aki Hotaru 16_ (Hopefully I can keep you interested), _Farah_, _TheTalkingCupcake_, _LabyFan23_, and _PoisonLily_ (I'm hoping to clear things up and slow the action down now that the prelude is out of the way. Let me know if there's anything else that needs addressed!) for reviewing the last chapter. I own nothing but Nikita.

* * *

**Chapter One: Two Days Later, March 1993**

Nikita paced outside M's office, her temper growing sourer by the minute. First her mission had been busted by a double oh agent, Nikita didn't bother keeping track of them since none seemed to last for extensive periods of time, and now she had been shipped back to London two days later, ignored, and then called abruptly at two in the morning. It was now, according to the plain metal watch on her wrist, just past three. Nikita had been kept waiting for a half an hour and with each tick of the second hand she grew more and more irritated. Her steps grew shorter and sharper and her eyes narrowed further as she waited. Her trail as she paced grew shorter with each passing minute.

The click of a door behind her caught her attention and Nikita pivoted smoothly, heels no longer clicking as she stilled. The woman who stepped out into the waiting room was one of M's many secretaries, they came and went, with long blond curls and a babyish face. "M will you see you," the woman said, motioning toward the door. Nikita glowered at the woman and felt almost satisfied as she flinched. Then Nikita stormed past the hapless secretary, heels clicking crisply on the floor, and carefully opened the door, closing it softly behind her.

The room she entered was predominately white. Housed in the sudden blankness Nikita felt her calm return. The room was as sparse as her flat and the feeling of empty space was strangely comforting. M was sitting on one side of her desk watching the figure across from her with a penetrating stare. The man across from her, unmistakably the blond from the Zaccaro disaster, was staring at her. Nikita shot her a dark look and then turned to M. "You wanted to speak to me?" Her voice was crisp, cold, and utterly displeased. Nikita hated being called, told the business was urgent, and then being made to wait.

"Yes," M replied, unbothered as always by Nikita's temper. "I apologize for the wait. Some of the details of the upcoming mission were being most uncooperative." She shot a glare at the blond who gave her a stunning smile in response before turning back to watch Nikita. Something about his stare unnerved her. It was as if he saw far beneath the surface to the sour little girl she had been years ago. She hated that feeling. "Tiago meet your partner for this missing, Nikita Alden."

"_Partner_?" Tiago hissed incredulously as Nikita ground her teeth together.

"No," she snapped sharply, her voice coming out louder than she intended and making her flinch slightly at the volume. "I'm not working with him. Not after the Zaccaro incident."

"When are you going to get over the Zaccaro incident?" M asked impatiently.

"I gave up five months of my life for it," Nikita retorted. "How long do you think it's going to take?"

"You're both missing the point," Tiago spoke up. "I refuse to work with a partner."

"Good. That's settled," Nikita said briskly, turning for the door.

"Stay Miss Alden, Tiago," M said sharply. "I'm not finished with either of you." Nikita ignored M, annoyed by belief and so tired that her exhaustion served to expand the irritation. She swept out of M's office, her heels clicking briskly on the floor, and headed out of MI6, no pausing to look back.

Still sitting in M's office, Tiago Rodriguez turned back to M, fighting down an amused smile. "Now that the foolish idea of hitching me with a partner is destroyed perhaps you can give me the mission."

"Fine," M said coldly, her eyes narrowing at Tiago. "Convince Nikita to cooperate." M briskly shoved the file folder aside, pulling another one to her. Tiago remained in his seat, staring at her incredulously. After a moment M glanced up from her paperwork to look at him. "Do you need something Mr. Rodriguez?"

"I need my mission," Tiago said impatiently.

"And I've given it to you," M replied, speaking as if she were addressing a small child.

"I'm not going to-"

"Good day Mr. Rodriguez," M interrupted as if they ended the conversation which, in her mind, it probably did. Tiago shot her a chilling glare and then stalked out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

Tiago took a deep breath to calm himself and then left M's office behind, pausing near one of the secretaries. "Excuse me doll," he said. "But could you do me a favor?" The girl looked up and then giggled, blushing a brilliant shade of red. "My partner rushed off in a huff earlier and she's angry enough that I don't think she'll answer the phone if I call her. Would you mind looking up her address for me?" The girl's expression changed as he spoke and Tiago recognized the mixture of jealousy and annoyance on her face. Still she turned to her computer.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"Nikita Alden," Tiago informed her, repeating the name M had used to introduce the young woman. The jealousy faded from the girl's face and Tiago knew instantly why. Nikita Alden was not, by any means, beautiful. Striking perhaps, but not beautiful and not someone this girl would see as competition. Unlike her first appearance, during this meeting Nikita had been without any of her previous disguise. Her cheekbones had been too sharp to be pretty, her face almost sallow. The only thing that truly caught the attention in a good way was her green eyes. Those green eyes were captivating.

The giggling girl scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and gave it to him, beaming at him. "Thanks love," he told her and she smiled.

"It's Brooklyn," she called after him and he blew her a kiss in acknowledgement before walking out of MI6. Outside Tiago flagged down a bored early morning taxi driver and handed over the slip of paper. The driver pulled away from the sidewalk and Tiago watched the streets slide by. Nikita lived on the other edge of London in a shabby set of apartments. Tiago was pretty sure that he could break into them in six seconds flat.

Nikita lived on the second floor, the only room on the second floor listed as occupied. Tiago rapped twice on the flimsy door and then waited for a reply. For a long minute there was no answer and then he heard the sound of a deadbolt being drawn back and the door opened sharply, Nikita standing in the gap. "What do you want?"

"To talk to my new partner," Tiago drawled.

"Forget it," Nikita snarled. "I'm _not_ working with you."

"You don't have a choice sweetheart," Tiago returned cheerfully.

"I bloody well do," Nikita spat. "I can _quit_." Then she slammed the door in his face. Or tried to.

Tiago stuck his foot in the gap and shoved his way in, Nikita stumbling back a couple steps. "Get out," she snarled but he ignored her, shutting the door behind him.

"Nice place you've got," he said and smirked when she growled at him, turning on her heel and stalking into the tiny kitchen. His smirk widened and he followed her. The kitchen ceiling and walls were the off yellow color that white paint turned when it got dirty. It was barely big enough for one person, let alone both of them. What Tiago had seen of the rest of the apartment it was in the same state of disrepair as the kitchen with its cracked appliances. Nikita ignored him, an impressive feat considering that she couldn't move around him, driving him to the point of annoyance. "Can we talk?"

"We both have the ability to," Nikita said coolly, turning to look at him with icy eyes.

"May we converse like civilized people?" Tiago said through gritted teeth and thought he saw the hint of a smirk on her face. "Well," he snapped after a moment, fighting down a sudden flash of amusement. It seemed that the ice princess was not quite as icy as she appeared.

"Talk," Nikita said harshly. "Since you're obviously not going anywhere."

Tiago paused for a moment, studying her stony face, and then said, "No, I don't think I will." He ignored Nikita's snarl of irritation and sauntered out of the kitchen and into the living room, settling on the dusty couch. He flipped on the television and waited for a moment, curious as to what Nikita would do. A moment later he heard the clink of dishes. Tiago settled in and turned part of his attention to the television. It was going to be a long wait.


End file.
